The frozen twinkle in your eye
gave pause to the moment
where memories haunt
and questions taunt
inquiring:
is this what love truly meant?
that every once in a while,
a frame falls and shatters
revealing loves true intent

Did we really think these
constructed frames
could forever hold
ephemeral moments
encased in gold,
preserving them in the amber of memory..
a museum of fanciful reverie

Yet there they remain
preserved in a special room
of shattered frames
and broken veins
a sacred shrine within a tomb

And the shattered glass
now crimson red
adds color to the room
the broken vein, an endless well
for the ink to pen the wound